The Ninth Sense
by childish-kel
Summary: There is another nation who can see England's fairies! Who is it, and how does England find out?


Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

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It all started when America spotted England talking to an empty space.

It was not an uncommon sight, it had occurred a couple of times in the past, but this time, America had an audience. Canada and France were with America when they walked into the room and saw England talking to what appeared to be thin air.

"Hey Iggy! Talking to your imaginary friends again?"

England stopped his conversation with the fairy and looked behind him at the smirking American. America had just interrupted a very important conversation, and England was not impressed. Not bothering to hide his annoyance, England snapped back at the young man.

"For your information, America, they are not imaginary. And stop calling me Iggy, you know I despise that."

America's smirk grew wider, quite pleased with England's tone. Pissing off the English was still one of his favourite pastimes, it always made for good fun. He couldn't help but continue. "I think the definition of an imaginary friend, _Iggy_, is that no one else but you can see them. I totally understand kids having imaginary friends, but as adults…well I think that's border line crazy."

America wasn't prepared for the response that he got.

"They are bloody real! Just because you are a close-minded git does _not _mean that I am crazy!"

Not one to take insults lying down, America reacted in the only way he really knew how, and that was to insult right back.

"Oh really? Well let's look at it this way. Has anyone else seen these creatures? No. Has anyone else heard these creatures? No. They do not exist! They aren't real. You are going to have to come to terms with that."

"Just because you can't see them, doesn't mean that they do not exist!"

"Ah, but my dear L'Angleterre, how is it that no one else is able to see them? Perhaps he is right. You are crazy." France entered in the conversation, cutting off America who had opened his mouth to say something else. France was tired of the same old argument. He knew that he should have said this a long time ago.

England, on the other hand, was shocked at France's remark. This was something he did not expect to ever come from the Frenchman. He had been called an idiot, a punk…you name it he was called it. But never had France called him crazy. Not once did he ever question his sanity. They were the best of friends. Why was agreeing with America?

"France…you never…"

"I never what? I never told you the truth before because I had found it…what is the word… ah yes…cute. I found it cute when you talked about your little friends. But you are now a grown man! Yes, it is true that we all had the imaginary friends when we were young, but this is the 21st century! The silly superstitions of our past have no place in the modern world! You may not have heard, but other nations are calling you weak! They say that you are no longer able to be a nation, that you should be abolished! You must understand, I say this not to be mean. I say this because I love."

"Love? Since when is love used to insult another's beliefs you bloody frog! I cannot believe you France. After all that we had been through…I thought that you out of all people would have my back. I-I can't be around you anymore."

With tears threatening to fall, England bolted to the door, pushing a forgotten Canada out of his way as he ran out of the room.

He ran down the hall, ignoring the calls from his so-called family. The tears that he had held in broke lose, freely flowing down his face. He ran outside, and headed to the gazebo that was behind the building. He sat down, put his head in his arms and cried, not noticing the man that walked toward him.

Canada stood on the steps of the gazebo, silently waiting for England to notice his presence.

After a few moments, England finally realized that there was someone else there.

"Go away Canada."

Surprised that England knew that he was there, Canada took a step closer.

"How did you know that it was me?"

With his head still in his arms, England mumbled something about America and France not being so damn quiet.

After a few more moments of silence, Canada spoke again. What he was about to say would change his relationship with Englanf forever.

"I can see them too."

England lifted his head from his arms, his tear stained face looking up at the Canadian, his green eyes meeting the violet of his former colony.

"What do you mean, 'you can see them too'?" England asked.

Canada sighed, and sat down beside his former mentor. He took England's left hand with his right, and squeezed slightly. "I'm sorry I never told you before" the young nation began. "I could see them from the very beginning."

The Englishman yanked his hand out of the Canadian's hold.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why, after seeing me being insulted time after time by the other nations…why didn't tell them? Why did you not stick up for me? Why did you stay so damn quiet?" His voice was quivering from the hurt and anger he was feeling. Never had England thought that this young man could be so hurtful.

"The reason why I didn't say anything was because I was angry with you."

"Wha-Why?"

"Because…" Canada began, his own voice beginning to break. "…because you loved America more than me. Because when you took me from France, you ignored me."

England stared at his fellow nation. "T-That's ridiculous Canada! I never loved America more than you. And when I took you from that frog well, you should know by now that's just how our world works Canada. Colonies have always been shifted from one nation to another."

Canada shook his head, tears beginning to form in his own eyes. "I understand that! I can live with that! What I don't understand is how you could just shove me aside. I was a child! A baby! I needed love and affection, but no, you had to give it all to America. It was always what America wanted. Never did you do anything just for me. So don't you dare say you loved us both equally. That was never the case. Do you know how many times I was shoved aside, how many times I was forgotten? Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep?"

Canada paused. His breaths were coming out in gasps. His whole body was shaking, barely containing the emotions that he was feeling. There was a little voice in his head telling him to stop, to just shut up and let things be. But he knew that he had to continue. If he didn't do this now, he never would.

After a few moments and a couple of deep breaths, Canada had calmed himself down enough to continue.

"Do you remember, when I first came to you, and there was that hurricane? I had never been through anything like that in my entire life. I was absolutely terrified. The wind…the rain. I thought the world was ending. And so I came into your room looking for some comfort, some reassurance. At first you thought I was America, and I remember you lifting the covers. You had told me to not be afraid, and that I could sleep with you. I was about to climb in, but then the real America began to scream in the other room. I remember you telling me to go back to my room. I remember you scolding me about pretending to be America. And then you took off, to go and comfort my brother, leaving me there in the cold room to deal with the storm by myself.

"I was angry with you after that. So angry that I was determined to find a way to hurt you, and a few weeks later I found how. It was when you had brought America and myself to go and stay in your house. I remember how you were so excited. You had wanted to introduce us to your friends. When they arrived, I was entranced. They were just how you described. But then America said he couldn't see anybody else in the room. When he said that, I saw your face fall. And then you looked at me."

"I looked into your eyes and saw the hope and desperation. I didn't understand at that time how important it was for you to hear that someone else had the sight, all I knew was that I had a way to get back at you. So I lied, and copied America. I said I couldn't see anyone but you and America. I swear, when I said that you nearly cried."

"And you know what? I nearly cried myself. I was so confused. Here I was, finally getting back at you, and all I wanted to say to you was that I was sorry for lying, that I could see them. But I couldn't say it. I was afraid that you would yell at me for lying, and that I would be shipped off to another nation, so I kept quiet."

Canada lowered his head. He couldn't look at the other nation any more he was so ashamed of himself.

"I-I wished I had said all of this to you sooner. I just didn't know how without making myself look like a complete idiot."

England slowly stood up and moved so he stood in front of Canada. His hands clutched in shaking fists as he fought to make his voice neutral. "Why didn't you? What made you change your mind?" England asked.

With his head still held low to hide the tears that were now freely flowing down his face. He couldn't see England and the threatening manner in which he stood. Even if he did, that wouldn't have stopped Canada from replying.

"Because you cried this time. Out of all the remarks in the past, I had never once seen you cry. You always got angry and yelled...but you always did that. It was like it never really bothered you. But tonight I could see that it really caused you pain, and that it always did, and that it was my entire fault. And when France said that other nations are beginning to call for your retirement, I got scared. I can't imagine a life without you England. If I had just swallowed my pride back then, and told you the truth, you would have never had to suffer alone, that you wouldn't be in danger right now. I am so sorry England. I am s-so sorry. I-"

England lowered himself into a crouching position, and launched himself into his former colony, wrapping his arms around the crying nation. The anger that he had felt so strongly a moment before disappeared in a flash. England tightened his hug, apologizing for all of the wrong doings he had done.

"Don't you be sorry lad. It's all my fault. Please forgive an old fool. I didn't…I-I didn't realize how much of a prat I was. I should of never ignored you. I should have been a better big brother. I should of given you more attention. I should of…"

Canada ignored the rest of England's apology. He had forgiven the man a long time ago. Instead Canada's thoughts went to the damage control that knew he had to do.

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Ah, there is just not enough England and Canada out there. It makes me sad. It makes me even sadder that they are kinda OOC. I just couldn't seem to make it fit without making England a cry baby. Oh well...Anyways! Thank you all for reading! And please review. I really appreciate hearing readers comments.


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